


This Christmas

by helo572



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helo572/pseuds/helo572
Summary: There’s the novelty of feeding the guard: the washing up, which Hanzo volunteers for, and trades a begrudging Jesse along to it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> another day another secret santa fic! this one was a flashfic for a domestic fluffy mchanzo which is sort of course, christmas themed. happy holidays!

Christmas dinner breeds most of the festivity through the Gibraltar Watchpoint, a gathering of friends and family to slice the perfectly procured turkey heading up the table. Jesse’s in an awful Christmas sweater, Hanzo entertains the red and green ideas with a set of antlers sitting atop his head.

 

Then there’s the novelty of feeding the guard: the washing up, which Hanzo volunteers for, and trades a begrudging Jesse along to it. Reinhardt and Ana, their chefs, are thankful and duck off with the youngins back into the twists of the base. There’s a whisper about Hana’s Christmas stream on the air as the guard wind through the corridors, Jesse’s ears prickling to pick up the remnants of the conversation.

 

For now, it’s him and Hanzo, who starts the tap to fill the sink. Jesse spares a look out to the dining room that’s just been vacated, and is struck by how empty it looks without the life which just filled it throughout dinner. The Christmas decorations adorning the room look so sullen without the reflections of candlelight and laughter in them, pulling a lamenting smile from his lips as he turns back to Hanzo.

 

“Good feed, huh?” he asks, planting his hip against the sink, arms crossed. 

 

He’s been designated the dryer, his partner the washer, who looks slightly bemused as he checks the arrangement of dirty dishes to his right. There’s everything and anything strewn across the countertop - plates, cutlery, pots and pans, too much to fit into the tiny cheap dishwasher.

 

“Very nice,” Hanzo returns, taking the first plate, depositing it into the sink as the bubbles slowly begin to rise from the water.

 

Not everybody celebrates Christmas under their roof, a point to note from the amount of dishes strewn across the table. Jesse, of course, had gone straight for the pigs in a blanket - a gift from Lena and Emily, who laughed a bit too hard when one of them fell apart in his hands. Almost dropping bacon in his lap was actually very confronting.

 

“Somethin’ ya like?” He gives his partner a nudge with his flesh hand, grinning somewhat. “‘Sides the obvious.”

 

Hanzo entertains him with a smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he warns, completely unserious, but he side eyes Jesse anyway as he turns to start on the first dish. Jesse equips himself with a towel, sauntering closer to his partner. “It was good food,” the archer answers his question as Jesse is handed the first plate, which he dries and deposits on the bare countertop to his side. “It was….good to see the others all together, too. It is not often we do things such as that.”

 

“Aw, it is,” Jesse laments in return. “They’re all good people. Good friends. Nice to spend the day with ‘em.”

 

They work through the dishes slowly but surely, banter between them, the quietness of the decorated table at their backs. It’s comfortable, until Hanzo gathers a collection of the white bubbles into his gloved hand and smears them against Jesse’s beard, as he sets down one of the larger pans.

 

The contact is startling, but Hanzo’s low chuckle from behind him sets a grin to his face immediately. “Wasn’t that just cheeky,” he accuses, turning back to him with the towel, which he’s well-trained to strike for Hanzo’s with, like a whip. He’s a  _ real _ cowboy now, he thinks offhandedly. “What was  _ that _ for, anyway?”

 

Hanzo’s still laughing, not phased by the towel attack, nor the remainder of the washing up at his elbow. “I was waiting until you turned away.”

 

“Your plan for the washin’ up was to attack me with bubbles,” Jesse translates, eyebrows raising, even more so when Hanzo laughs again. It’s a bubbly sound, the sort of bubbles which graced their champagne across the table, the sort which sets butterflies into his stomach. God, he loves this man. “Very mature of ya, Shimada. Befittin’ of an Overwatch agent, in fact, sure the holos will be  _ all _ over ya.”

 

“I believe they would be more interested in the poor excuse for Santa Claus roaming the base,” is the retort, which reminds Jesse of the bubbles still lingering in his brown beard, obscuring his scruff up the side of his face. He makes no move, however, to wipe it off.

 

“You wound me.” Jesse clutches his heart, expression pained, which only makes Hanzo laugh more. “Darlin’, you’re laughin’ at a man’s pain. We’re ‘posed to be  _ partners _ .”

 

Hanzo, still smiling very broadly, retrieves something from the shrinking pile to his side, and keeps cleaning. “You are not going to clean your beard,” he notes, as he hands Jesse the pan to be dried.

 

“Figured I’ll just wear the shame of bein’ bested by my beloved. Then laughed at for it.”

 

“You are so dramatic.” Jesse sets the plate down, and turns to be greeted with another face full of bubbles from Hanzo’s gloved hand, dead centre. “And an easy target.”

 

He wipes enough away he’s able to retort without swallowing any of Hanzo’s gift, leaving a line around his obscured lips. “You’re awful. Absolutely fuckin’ awful.”

 

Hanzo laughs so much he grips the sink, hanging his head as his shoulders shake. Jesse sees the opening, takes it with the accuracy of a deadeye - the towel is wound, and flicked right to the backs of Hanzo’s knees, through the thin material of his  _ hakama _ . His partner yelps in surprise, straightening, but immediately recovers as he starts laughing again, at sight of Jesse still clad in his bubble beard.

 

“Don’t even take me fuckin’ seriously,” the gunslinger grumbles. “Or finishes the washin’ up! You’d think, the man volunteers for it, he’s committed to seeing it through!”

 

They  _ do _ finish the washing up, some time later, when Jesse’s much more akin to the Santa Claus description from before, and the backs of Hanzo’s legs are sore. The both of them are laughing, even more so when they join the guard in the main room, the most of them having settled down to watch Hana’s stream.

 

Santa McCree makes an appearance at their holiday celebrations many times after that, complete with the big red suit, and the smile on everybody’s faces which chases him and Hanzo to volunteer for the washing up. Nobody’s opposed, not in the slightest. 

 

Hanzo kisses him extra nice in thanks, for the good memories, for the good dinner, for the good year they have all had. Having a family again is a novel idea for both of them, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 you can come visit me on [tumblr](http://talizorahs.tumblr.com)!


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